YEA-EAH!

Welcome to this side of the placenta, little Gretchen Leigh!
And a big round of applause and back thumps and chin ticklings and congratualtions to her adoring parents, Ellen & Donnie. What joy!

p.s. I'd've given you a better look at her blue eyes and dimpled chin and all, but I promised to wait for that until the reception of an officially bloggable photo (i.e, on e that has the stamp of parental approval).
Stay tuned!

Little Big & Funny Moments

(07 September)

Today, Tomi came running over to me, holding out a drawing and crying: "Mommy! Look! It's Spiderman glisser on the slide!"

I nearly fell off my chair, laughing with delight.

Me: "I LOVE this!"
Tomi: "It's for you!"

Just so's you know: the slide used as a template here actually does look like this. It's a part of a small structure in our neighbourhood park that's meant to look like a wee mountain. And "glisser" means "to slide."

(08 September)

This morning, as I woke the chickens up, I called out, "Who would like to go and look at a house with Mommy and Daddy?!" to which a tiny voice answered, "I do!" from under the covers. I explained that we were (still) looking for a house for all of us, and Leo asked, "With a garden?"
Me: "We hope so!"
Leo: "A big one?"
Me: "Well... I'm not sure how big."
Leo: "Gramma & Grampa have a garden?"
Me: "Yes, they do!"
Leo: "A BIG one?!"
Me: "Yeah, it's really big!"
Leo: "With toys?" (read: things for boys to play on)
Me: "There are a few, but there's also lots of room so you can bring your own toys outside!"
Leo: "An' run an' run an' run an' run? At Kiss-muss time?"
Me: "Oh, yeah!"
Leo: (wiggles under his blanket, eyes crinkling with a big, sleepy smile)

The Return of the Gamma-Gampa!

pre-script: I did start this on the 3rd, even if it's only going up on the 20th (our 4th wedding anniversary!)... Eek! Sorry, G&G. I plead Busy Working Mom.

A thoroughly good summer (if that's what you wish to call this strange, extended autumn that we've been having since mid-June) has now officially come to an end with the departure of the boys' beloved Gamma & Gampa and with those same boys' finally knocking off to sleep a few minutes ago - for when they wake up, they will be readying for their first day of their second year of pre-school. But more about that later...

...and back to Gamma & Gampa! Who arrived on the last day of the boys' summer school, about five minutes after I'd finished the first of the revamped S'MAGs and sent it all off to the printer's. We picked the boys up just as they were waking from their nap and readying for the afternoon's fun on the playground. They were still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes, and it was terribly sweet to see them realise who was before them, at last. They immediately took their grandparents' hands and started talking up a storm with them. Mostly, the storm concerned pteradactyls and Batman and Leo's new-ish shoes (which never seem to lose their sheen for him)...

Their visit coincided with the end of a visit from our dear old pal, Agnès, whose departure for the southern climes about three years ago has been felt sorely ever since. Here're a few scenes from a day at the park with friends and family: Below are a few shots from our trip back to the Kehl train station, where there is a series of fountains to occupy people of all ages as they await their locomotive. Some take off their shoes to enjoy them (or wear water-walking sandals), whereas some... Poor little elf. (I felt a bit badly about taking this photo, and yet...)
And then, on Saturday, we headed into the Vosges, to a place called Hautes-Huttes. We had the love-r-ly company of Eric, Caroline, Fred, Dylan and Lara for the first two days, and beautiful weather to boot! The second of these two pictures is another from the four-year-old photographic genius, Lara. I am already a BIG fan of her work. And her dad took the first picture, which is one of my faves from the whole week:
If you look closely, above, you can see that Fred's taking a picture of us at the same instant that I'm taking a picture of the three men around the table. And (below) here we are in various states of readiness for the beautiful day's walk that was ahead of us.
From Sunday night to Thursday night, we were on our own, up to lots of trouble and hiking, hiking, hiking, eating, drinking, hiking, eating, drinking, rolling Yahtzee dice, reading, drinking, hiking, eating, hiking, hiking, hiking, eating, drinking, rolling more dice, reading, hiking, hiking... you get the picture.

Here are some scenes from a very foggy, romantic day's walk: Tomi pointing out one of the many patches of heather along the paths:
Some scenes from a day at the Bioscope:
A day of walking that ended with the women and children awaiting the men and the car (that they climbed that mountain behind them to get to - an incredible climb, and they did it in about half the time the maps suggested. We were aghast when they explained their route to us, later):
A day of walking that ended (again?!) with the men trekking for the car, Jean-Philippe's being led for two hours all over the windy mountain paths to eventually track us down, and Larry and Neil at the point of contemplating a call to the local search and rescue operation when we finally rolled in (it had been a thoroughly gorgeous day, though, and the fact is that we who were left behind to fend off the hungry bears were actually the most fortunate, in the end, as the valley we were in was one of the most idyllic that I've ever seen, and came complete with a fabulous inn where we could stuff our stomachs. It's a long story, though - too long for this blog post, which is becoming epic in length already)... Starting with Barb and the view from just above our house, where the paths began: Above, the boys learning the beauty of berries from Grampa. Below, a few of Leo's photos (the first one with a bit of help from his mom):An unsatisfactory picture of the valley in which we were held captive until sundown and one of Tomi busying himself at the inn:
And then we were joined by the Ovey clan from Thursday evening until we all made our merry way home, taking in a long and lovely lunch on the terrace of a wonderful place that we found by accident in Villé along the way...
Oh, and here's a photo of the height of most of the ceilings in the house - as Caroline said as we walked in the front door for the first time: "Oh! It's a Yerkes-sized house!" - and also a photo of the effect of those ceilings on the tallest among us (heh! heh!):
If it ain't already obvious, we had a really wonderful time, kids and adults alike. Definately something we will use as a template for future vacations. And I will never forget some of the images (not captured on film) from this Gamma-Gampa stay, like the moment that the boys saw their grandparents in the school hallway and those moments following, during which the boys so happily took their hands and began walking and chatting with them as though this were something perfectly normal; or the evening we spent teaching the boys how to hit balls with rackets (Grampa was with the boys at the bottom of the tiny hill, acting as "catcher" while Gramma and Mom (sans -my, now) stood up above and launched) as Jean-Philippe prepared supper and the sun began setting behind the mountain; or many-many others... But it's taken far too long for me to get this up, and it's a long one as it is, and so... despite the gaps and the omission of the sometimes hilarious stories behind the comments and pictures above... I now hold my breath and close my eyes and hiccup and hit "publish post" at the same time... (yikes!)

Brrrr!

Before I (finally!) finish the blog posts about

1) summer visits of old friends
2) Gramma & Grampa's absolutely lovely visit
and our trek into the Vosges
3) the first day back to school, and
4) being green

I thought I would mention... the weather!

The weather? you ask.

Yes. The weather.

After two and a half months of autumnal summer (as in: it was like late September through October in, say, Iowa City) which began mid-to-end June, we have come to the beginning of September. This morning, all dressed for late October weather, in order to go house-hunting, I stepped out the door and was... COLD!

It was about 5°C. The sky was (and still is) a heavy, slate grey. And it almost got down to freezing last night.

I am still in shock.

...

I've been sitting in front of my computer for ages, looking at this rectangle where I was hoping to be able to put down a few words that might describe the thoughts that've been swirling 'round my head these past few days. It all refuses to flow through my fingers, let alone settle on the screen...

So...

I went on a long - LONG - walk yesterday, taking those whirling thoughts, my sketchbook and a newly acquired copy of Over Sea, Under Stone with me. It was a hot day, one of the few hot days we've had all "summer." Walking into the first village in my path, I stopped for a drink on a canopied terrace, and let my mind wander, thinking of David, but unable to stop at one or the other memory point, just shuffling the images back and forth, looking vaguely for something I'd overlooked or forgotten before, but taking some comfort in the old images and films, the memory of the sound of his voice, his laugh...

I remember my first look at David, when he and Mom arrived at the airport, back from Ankara. Though actually, I have never so much remembered the look at HIM as the look at the cardboard baby box they'd given him to travel in, and wondering what a kid had to do to be given such a swank box to nestle in...

After the rest under the canopy, having walked much further than I'd planned and seen a panoply of beautiful wee sights, I stopped at a terrace that made me think I'd been transported back into the France of the 50s or earlier. You had to experience it to believe it. After a while, I opened up Over Sea, Under Stone, a book that easily recalls David, with whom I shared this collection ("The Dark is Rising Sequence," as it is apparently known, now), as well as other wonderful childhood reads. One would start a series, and the other would have to wait until (s)he was finished with the first and moving on the second. Mom would sometimes join in the scrabble to the finish line, and although we were fast readers, she had a clear advantage: an elastic bedtime hour.

I couldn't help thinking of Gumerry as a David-like figure. And something about Barney made me think of Leo...

David and I were always going on quests, looking for lost treasures, hidden passageways, secret messages. Thinking about it, the books we loved in those years were certainly a reflection of all of that.

Well... when we were all reunited last night, the boys asked to watch The Iron Giant, their obsession of the moment. When it got to the moment at which Hogarth tries to explain death to the giant, the boys were leaning in towards the screen, and you could feel their ears pricking up. Tomi turned to me after Hogarth said it and reiterated (in his own, sweet way) as he looked curiously at me: "It bad to kiw. It not bad to die." I had already caught my breath, and when he said that, I couldn't think what to do. The whole thing was making me feel a little bit sick, and even a bit confused. All I could come up with on the spot was, "It IS bad to kill - it's HORRible-TERRible to kill. But whether or not it's bad to die is a much more complicated matter."

And then, this morning, as Jean-Philippe came out of the bath, he looked into the boys' room, from which we could hear cries of glee, as per usual. I glanced up from my desk and saw a look of terror on his face, and then he was sailing into their room, where... they'd opened the window and were calling out to the people walking in the street below!

We had a long talk about danger and death and all, and the boys really, really seemed to be understanding, and even to be frightened by what they'd done. And then, towards the end of our spiel, Tomi smiled innocently and said, "Can I have some chocolate milk?" I nearly started crying.

Sitting on the terrace tonight, with my copy of The Dark is Rising on my knee, a tragic wave seemed to sweep through, and I realised that I've never missed anybody like I've been missing David. There is no describing this kind of loss, try as one might.

And it occured to me once again that the real tragedy is not my/our own, but all of humanity's. Every single day, someone is - or rather, many someones are - being torn from their loved ones, who are left to deal with it the best they can.


p.s. The photo above was taken in the autumn of 1973, when we were 4 and 1 1/2 years old. For David's 18th or 19th birthday, I tried to paint his portrait using this photo, but couldn't ever seem to get it right...

Time FLIES!

I'm not sure where it's been flying to, but the space between blogs seems to indicate that time's been flying somewhere far, far away. Yikes! Anyway, since I haven't been able to keep up on a more regualr basis, here are a few photos - not at all in chronological order - of moments and things that've happened since our return from Tuscany...

We'll start with a few birthday pictures for/of/concerning my now-37-year-old sweety. Joyeux anniversaire, mon tchoups !
His family-birthday meal (almost entirely concocted by Chengy) was so delicious* that I'm salivating just writing this sentence. The first picture is the first course: (my) fig-and-ham rolls and Jean-Philippe's roquette salad. Then came the incredibly delicious (Jean-Philippe's) osso-bocco and risotto (seriously, you wouldn't have beLIEVED how delicious this was). And lastly, there was an amaretto cream-thing which deserves much more than my impaired retention of names suggests. Of course, we adults drank delicious wines with it all, while the bairns drank their apple-mango juice... Monsters, Inc. serves to pass the time as Chengy prepares dessert (& no, he's not preparing said dessert in the next photo. He's opening one of the gifts that we can't wait to taste... heh! heh!): Here're my three boys, not long before two of them were jamma'd and tucked in. I think the camera was set at 800 or 1600 or something, but it really was early evening. And pouring rain! So the light was low...*******
Here's a picture of my 5€ find at the end of the French Soldes (sales) season, and of the delicious Feta-Roquette-Pine-Nuts Pizza I made that night, and which is a part of my culinary comeback* of late:
* The trouble started in the kitchen on the very last day of the last year, as I was preparing food for our party; and the downward slope continued for about six months - ?! - until, very recently, things not only started perking up, but... well, I don't know how to describe it, exactly... so I'll just say that things have got Very Tasty around here. And it's not just me! Jean-Philippe's been bitten by the bug, as well!
*******
Our wee ones in their dining table tent, watching A Bug's Life (the boys were SO excited about this wee adventure; it was extREMEly cute to watch it all come together) and a corner of my presently favourite corner of our terrace, with one of my from-seed plantations (poppies): *******
And some scenes from our long weekend of camping, dancing, theatre-going and more in Bussang (in the Vosges) with Caroline and Fred and their two sweetkins...

When the accordian came out towards the end of our evening at the inn high up in the mountains above our campsite, Tomi began swaying happily in his seat. I asked him if he'd like to dance with me, and thus began a happy hour of dancing and laughing. Happy, that is, for everyone but Leo, who was utterly rejected by his beloved Lara:p.s. The man behind her isn't berating Lara for not dancing with Leo; he was talking to their table's resident dog...

I love this image of Dylan and his daddy - and also this one of Caro! Another couple of our personal faves: The second of these photos is one of many beautiful moments, watching my Tiny Tims at their favourite passtime, and the first represents one of the most beautiful moments I've witnessed in a long time. The background for it is long and involved, but involves, among many other factors, having a step-mom step in (& in the middle of a VERY complicated situation that had otherwise nothing to do with her) a couple of years ago... So anyway... Dylan was drawing (really swank) houses, and telling stories to go along with them. When we asked him to draw "his house" (as in: his dream house) he made a comment that it took us a while to catch onto. After a couple of extra seconds, we realised that he was actually talking about "himself" or his interior. Just as we realised this, he said that he'd draw his dad's house for us (in other words, "his" house). As you can probably imagine, we watched with not a little anticipation to see what was going to appear before our eyes. First, a kind of tree form... then a "strong roof, and nice, too" ("Ahh!" says the child psychologist in all of us) and then... a banana shape as a front window, about which he said, "This is Caroline's laughter, all around ..." and as he said it he was looking at the "laughter" and he smiled an utterly unconscious smile, lost for a moment in happy reverie. I don't know about you, but I think he's realised how lucky he got, when his dad met Caro... A couple of UTOs (Unidentified Tented Objects): A funny moment from the next (gorgeous) day, after having finally landed on Planet Wonder, at the top of the top of the top of Beauty's mountains: And some family photos, taken by our budding photographer, Leo: I would love to wax poetic on the inn that we found on this day, and the innkeeper, and the view and the food and the drink and the lovely time we had... (It was INCREDIBLE, all of it!) I would also love to linger on some of the other lovely little details of the past few weeks... But this has got to be posted. Otherwise... it will suffer the same fate as numerous other tries at posting over the past few weeks, which is: oblivion. As you can see, it's already taken me more than a week to get this one up (I started it the 31st, but it's now 7 August...), and so, with that: a very happy Tuesday (or -night, depends where you are) to you!
*******
To all of you who didn't take that bridge that day: thank you!

And to Jack: get well SOON!

p.s. A few good photos of our Prodigal Härry's two-day return are coming up next...

Presently Playing: Woke on a Whaleheart (Bill Callahan, a.k.a, Smog)
(Thanks for the idea, Amber!)

*******(end post)

And So! Two Months Later...

And... where were we? Ah! Yes! Two months ago, we were still in Strasbourg when end-of-the-school-year activities began pouring in for two members of our wee family (les jumeaux) and work began raining down on the other two members (moi et le Chengy). It was a very-VERY hectic eight weeks or more. And then: it was all over! And we were on our way to Tuscany with six friends, big and small. The boys missed the very last days of school; Jean-Philippe missed a couple of important days at work; and the book that Muriel and I had jointly given birth to came off the press in the evening of our first day in Italy; but we'd left all of our hopes and worries and walnuts behind, and were beginning nine/ten days of beauty in the Tuscan sun...

Not before we'd tested the waters of the gorgeous Swiss lakes along the way, though. And then it was, "Ah! In Italy at last!" If you ever have the chance to visit Il Lago d'Orta, we all highly - HIGHLY - recommend it...
Bandits with their beverages...& innocent bystanders with theirs: This first night out in Lucca was short but sweet. We were serenaded at the outer gates to the city by an opera singer in full throttle in one of the flats looking over the park & parking area. Then, when we'd walked about 100 meters, we were waylaid by a wonderful seller of fine wines and meats and so on. He served us so well and so much as we chose our vino & victuals to take back to the villa for consumption over next few days that we could hardly get the (again: wonderful) three course meal down that we (accidentally - there was no way you'd've believed that you'd get a fine, three course meal for this price) ended up with at the wine bar, later!

Images from a day on the beach at Viareggio:And a sweet image from bedtime for the four bonzos that night:
A statue and her little girl at the gardens in a village nearby, followed by a scene from the pirates' taking over the situation a few moments later:
Scenes from Adults' Night Out in Lucca (having left the kids in the able hands of Sveva, the sexy lawyer-babysitter who can handle four English-French-speaking children under eight all evening with 10 words of English and 0 words of French):
While some went to Florence for the day, others went to Pinocchio Land. Here are the kids, making hats, and the lovely woman who helped with the stapling and such:And then, while two played the 3D Alice in Wonderland Memory Game, three went behind the scenes, exclaiming loudly, "WHY DON'T THEY TAKE THESE TWO, HERE?! THESE TWO ARE THE SAME!!" and so on... heh! heh!
While the other six lounged by the poolside, we four went up into the hills above our villa and discovered many's the treasure, including the place where we would go for the second of our two Adults' Nights Out: a gorgeous café & restaurant that serves everybody the same series of down-home Italian dishes every night, serves wine from the tiny village behind it, and serves you up a breathtaking view of the valley below, to boot. There are many reasons for which I'm hoping that we'll be able to get back to this area, and this wee wayside inn is most definately one of them...
The chillins exploring Barga in their own, special way; yet another magnificent pizza; and our pied prince(sse) of Casa Maria:
Last laughs in Lecco:
One last look at the lake:
And then it was home again! home again! jiggity-joo-ja (as Tomi would say)!

I realised, once we were home, that I hadn't got any pictures of the incredible villa that Clare had found for us. It was so amazing, so gorgeous, so... I wouldn't even know where to begin describing it, to be honest. The villa itself was an immense brick and stone structure, with huge rooms, including a kitchen the size of our entire living-dining-studio-area-room. Each couple and each pair of kids had their own beautiful room, and each room had its own bath. Outside, there was a dining and lounging terrace where we ate pretty much every meal made at "home." Behind this, there was a play area for the children, a washroom and an area to hang things out to dry. To our right, as we exited by the kitchen door, there was a romantic hillside garden which led to the olive tree groves and down to a pond, complete with palm trees and singing frogs. To our left, on the other hand, was a long, rolling garden, which finished at the swimming pool, which in turn was surrounded by olive trees and chaises longues, as well as a bamboo screen against the constant, golden sun. It really was hard to go home after living in this beauty for even a week, and after the fabulous meals, wines and wanderings we were able to do. I'm tempted to say that it was hardest for the children, who got along so famously, and who never tired of running and leaping and inventing new uses for plastic swords and new ways of encouraging adults to kick footballs around and lose against them. (heh! heh!)

And so: here's to Neil, whithout whose 40th birthday, none of this would have happened; and here's to Clare, who made it happen! Two fantasic friends who are great crack - and who are the parents of two fabulous kids ("Hear! hear!" say Leo and Tomi).